Onion Tears
by YourPinkDiary
Summary: Kurt Hummel has been a huge star since he was thirteen. Now at seventeen his father is starting to believe his behaviour is getting too wild and out of control. The solution? Boarding at Dalton Academy for boys and it seems Blaine is a bit of a fan.
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is an idea I had literally ages ago. Like, months and months. Anyway, I thought I post a little prologue and see how people like the idea and if they do, I'll take that as a sign to keep writing.**

* * *

><p><strong>'Onion Tears'<strong>

Kurt Hummel glanced at the time on the dashboard before he cut the ignition off. It was quarter to eight in the morning. It was still early so... hopefully his dad would still be asleep. He could sneak in to his room and he'd never know he'd pulled an all nighter. It would be fine. But even if it wasn't… what was half an hour of being yelled at compared to last night? It wasn't exactly like he could be grounded.

He unlocked the door slowly; cautious of how the sound could echo through the house sometimes. Once he was in he breathed a sigh of relief and shut the door behind him.

He skipped the first, squeaky stair (a stair he solely blamed for getting caught several times in the past) when,

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

He winced. Dammit. As he turned to face the living room he saw, that sure enough, there was Burt Hummel, his father, peering at him over that mornings newspaper (he was a little affronted that there on the front page was Rachel Berry holding up her award beaming towards the camera, and he was nowhere to be seen).

"I'm not impressed right now."

"Dad, I'm seventeen," he said. "This is normal."

"Not under my roof it isn't. We had an agreement Kurt. You can pursue your career as long as you abide by the curfew I set, and do all your chores. So explain to me why this morning Carole was doing the dishes?"

"Yeah, ok, I get it, I stuffed up. But Dad, you wanted me home by midnight. It was the MTV movie awards. Do you know how lame it would have looked if I had left early?"

"You must be mistaking me for someone who cares. We agreed on midnight Kurt."

"Yeah, alright. It won't happen again," he started to go back up the stairs, aiming to crash onto his bed and fall asleep. He was so tired. He had managed to crash on his friends couch for a couple of hours, but it wasn't great sleep. Not when all he could keep thinking about was how the Marc Jacob shirt he was wearing was going to get so wrinkled, and that wasn't a look he could rock.

"Kurt Hummel, I didn't say we were done with this conversation."

Kurt sighed and stomped back down the few stairs he'd climbed, giving his father an exasperated look.

"What are you going to do? Ground me? Because I'd really like to see you try." He knew he was giving attitude, probably a little too much. But he didn't really care. He was tired and his Dad insisted on continuing what was a stupid conversation to begin with.

"No I'm giving you your second warning. Three strikes and you're out buddy."

"What are you talking about?"

"Boarding school."

Kurt's jaw dropped.

"You... you wouldn't."

"Oh I would. If you don't clean your act up it's boarding school until you graduate."

"But... my career! How am I supposed to film if I'm at some stupid, stuffy boarding school?" he gasped. "You _wouldn't_make me wear a uniform would you?"

Burt just shrugged.

"Better not step out of line again."

"What was the first strike?"

Burt held up one finger. "One strike for being out all night," he held up another.  
>A second strike for that attitude of yours, and for not doing the dishes. You're on thin ice Kurt."<p>

"You can't do this!" Kurt knew he was seconds away from stomping his foot like a child.

"Kurt, we've reached the end of our discussion. I believe you have a geometry assignment that needs to be sent in today. So you should go along and do that."

Kurt was furious. He couldn't believe his dad was threatening him with boarding school. What was this? Some Enid Blyton novel? Who did that? There was no way in hell it was going to happen. Surely his dad wouldn't… not really. It was just an empty threat because he'd been out all night, wasn't it? It had to be. He'd just have to not accidentally break any rules for the next few weeks and it would all be forgotten.

But…

The look on his dad's face. The tight jaw, the hard eyes that said 'I'm really disappointed in you right now', the stiff posture he'd had. He couldn't help but wonder if maybe…

Boarding school?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So... I'd love to know what you think. That would be awesome! **


	2. The Final Straw

**A/N: Thanks to the people who reviewed, alerted and favourited! Love you guys :).**

**I feel the need to mention, before anyone tells me Kurt is OOC, that 1. This is an AU fic, and 2. We all know Kurt is a bit of a self-professed diva, and in this world, he's pretty much never been told no, and I really think under those circumstances he would be quite bratty. **

**Anyway, onwards.**

* * *

><p>"<em>Boarding<em> school Cedes. Boarding school." Kurt exclaimed. "Do you know what boarding school is? It's uniforms, stuffy, itchy, polyester, cotton blend uniforms that are cheap and nasty and show no expression of individuality, and are probably really ugly. And dorm rooms, that are probably smaller than my closet that you have to share with other people. Are you hearing me? With _other people_. I can't even stand to share a trailer because it gets too suffocating. That's what boarding school is. I can't go there."

"Relax, it's not even going to happen." Mercedes told him somewhat absently, too preoccupied with something on her phone.

Kurt shook his head adamantly as he reached for another piece of pizza.

"You didn't see the look on his face. He was serious about it. And it's ridiculous, I mean, he's now got me doing chores and homework all the time when I'm at home, and if I'm home so much as thirty seconds later than I said I would be he reminds me of this stupid boarding school thing. And it's like… I have scripts to look over you know? I'm seventeen and have to start transition from teen star to serious adult actor now, I do _not_ want to end up washed up at twenty. I can't be expected to work, finish all my homework, do all the damn housework even though we would easily afford a housekeeper, find the next perfect script for me _and_ have a social life. It's impossible."

"It'll be ok. Just a couple of weeks of good behaviour and he'll forget all about it."

"I bet it was Carole's idea. You know, she always seemed _so_ awesome, and loving, I sorted out her haircut and wardrobe and thought we kind of bonded as stepson and mother over that. But what if she's secretly an evil stepmother and planting ideas about boarding school in Dad's head? She'd never send Finn there in a million years. But me, she can't wait to get rid of."

At this Mercedes burst out laughing, nearly knocking her drink over in the process. She put her phone down and looked sternly at Kurt.

"Ok, Kurt, now you're getting ridiculous. Your dad isn't sending you to boarding school, Carole isn't evil and you won't end up a washed up actor at twenty. Stop freaking out."

"You're not listening to me."

"No, you're not listening to _me_."

Kurt glared at her.

"I'm serious. You're over reacting."

"Yeah ok say that now. But when I'm skyping you from a dorm room in a school uniform I get to say I told you so."

"Deal."

Kurt raised his eyebrows and held out his pinkie finger. Mercedes rolled her eyes and smiled, linking hers with his as they shook on it.

"Ok, now we need to get this pizza out of my sight before I eat more of it. I've eaten two days worth of calories already and I have a photo shoot in two days I need to look amazing for."

"You obsess over how you look far too much." Mercedes said as she grabbed a final slice and close the box before placing on a small table on the opposite side of her room.

"This is an industry that is obsessed with outer beauty."

"Well, what if you were the one to change that?"

Kurt gave her a dubious look. "Yeah… right."

**x x x**

The sleepover with his best friend had been just what he'd needed to get his mind off the forever-looming doom of being sent away. When he'd gotten home his dad had greeted him warmly, which annoyed Kurt. He couldn't be nice but still threaten him like he had. Things just didn't work that way. He'd barely acknowledged him and went straight to the kitchen and unpacked the dishwasher. Probably more aggressively than he needed to (he didn't feel the need to mention the crack in a mug he'd made) then stormed upstairs where he found several scripts that had been sent to him sitting on his desk.

He picked up the first one. '_The Hierarchy_' Kurt's eyes flicked down to the description… it was basically about a nerd climbing his way up the high school social ladder to get the girl. He tossed it aside. High School based comedies were the type of thing he was trying to get away from. The next one was titled '_Being Ethan Hart_' he shrugged and settled down on his bed with it.

The first couple of pages were confusing and he had no idea what was going on and the Ethan Hart character hadn't even been introduced yet. He was about to give up when his phone interrupted him, ringing loudly. Kurt suppressed a groan when he saw who was calling. He could ignore it, or just get it over and done with, because she was likely to call again… and again… until he finally picked up.

"Hello." He answered dryly.

"Kurt Hummel. How are you?"

"I'm fine Rachel Berry. Why are you calling me?"

"I'm calling because I sent you a formal invitation to my party, on this Saturday night."

"Ok…"

"So are you coming?"

"Why did you send me an invitation if you were just going to call me about it anyway?" he asked.

"Um, because this is the part where I ask if you could bring your cute step brother?"

"Finn?" Ok, so, while he'd had a fairly misguided crush on Finn once, back in the day, hearing Rachel Berry say he was cute was just… weird.

"Yeah, that one. Please bring him with you."

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but… why?"

"Because he's cute, and his band is so close to making it really big. If he starts to protest, just remind him that being seen with me, and at my party, will give him major recognition and the blogs just might start taking notice of him, and consequently his band. Tell him it'll be great publicity."

"Ok. But, he might not come. You were a little bit… clingy last time." She'd been drunk and had refused to let go of her grip on him all night. Finn had ended up off to the side of the party looking helplessly at the tiny girl attached to him with no clue as to what he was supposed to do.

"If he doesn't come, you can't either."

"Rachel, wha-

But she'd hung up. Kurt shrugged and sent a quick message to Mercedes, asking if she had heard about the party and if she had plans to go. Rachel's parties had a history of being, well, interesting…

To say the least.

It was potentially worthwhile going just for that. And actually, now that Kurt thought about it, it actually kind of amazing she was allowed to have another party since the last one she'd had had made headlines. And not particularly very good ones.

**x x x **

"No way man. I'm not going."

"Finn, you _have_ to."

"No. Rachel is cute and all, but she's really, really scary."

"She's not…" Kurt stopped when he realised what he was about to say. "ok, she is that bad. But _please_? For me?"

"For you? Why would I do it for you Kurt?"

"Because… I'm your awesome step brother?"

Finn didn't respond.

"Ok, Finn, please don't make me beg. But, I can't go unless you do and _everyone_ is going to be there so I _have_ to be. People will know if I'm not."

"Dude, why do you care so much about what people think?"

Kurt sighed, it was time to pull out the big guns. "Finn, if you go and are seen with Rachel… Rachel _Berry_, ok _the_ Rachel Berry. The girl all guys want and all girls want to be… people will want to know who you are."

"So?"

"So… New Directions are on the brink of stardom." He pointed out.

"Dude, I'm aware of that."

"I've done my share of tweeting about you guys. _But_ as soon as pictures of you and Rachel get out, people will be curious, and we can anonymously leak that it was Finn Hudson, drummer for New Directions. Do you realise how much of a leg up that will give you?"

Finn sighed. "Ok, fine."

"And who knows?" Kurt shrugged. "Maybe you'll even end up liking her."

"Dude, you know Quinn and I are going to get back together."

"If you say so." He muttered. "We're leaving at seven ok?"

"Ok."

Three hours and four and half outfits later he finally found the perfect one. It said 'I just threw this on, but still look fabulous'. He coiffed his hair the same way he always did because it was his signature and stepped back from the mirror and smiled at himself. He looked good. Better than good, actually. He set about carefully hanging the discarded outfits back up in his wardrobe, which was divided into three sections. Things he'd worn, things he'd yet to wear, and things he'd never in a million years dream of touching but hadn't gotten around to throwing out yet.

Kurt had the entire third floor to himself, granted it was the smallest floor of the house, but it meant he could have a whole room dedicated to wardrobe, and his own living room and mini bar fridge for when he had guests over. He looked in the wall length mirror one more time, and quickly fixed a lock of hair that was going astray before heading downstairs to Finn's room.

"Are you ready?" he asked, knocking on the door politely.

"Yeah, let's get this over with."

"Are you really wearing that?" He asked, glancing up and down at Finn. Baggy jeans, an old grey shirt and a puffy vest? No, just… no.

"What's wrong with this?" Finn glanced down at his attire.

"At least get rid of the vest and… I don't know, throw a band t-shirt on or something." Kurt shook his head. It would still be awful, but he was running not only on a limited amount of time, but also a limited wardrobe.

"Fine." Finn sighed. When Kurt didn't move he gestured to the door. "Leave so I can change."

Kurt sighed and turned to wait outside the door. Finn _said_ he no longer had an issue with the fact that Kurt was gay, but… sometimes…

It just seemed like maybe he still did.

Finn came out wearing a Journey shirt, which Kurt raised his eyebrows at, but chose not to comment on.

"Let's go." He said.

The headed down the stairs, and Kurt practically made a beeline for the front door. He'd nearly made it too, but as his hand closed in on the handle a voice stopped them.

"Wait. Where are you boys going?"

Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but Finn got there first.

"Oh, just a party at Rachel's house."

"Rachel?"

"Yeah, Rachel Berry."

Kurt winced and only just managed to resist the temptation to slap his hand to his forehead.

"Kurt?"

"Yes dad?"

"You didn't tell me you were going to a party at Rachel's. Or that you were going out at all."

"It's not really a party. More of a… small get together of friends. There won't be that many people there."

"But dude, you said-"

Kurt dug his heel into Finn's foot.

"It's nothing Dad. We'll be back by two."

"Midnight."

"One?" Kurt tried.

"Twelve-thirty. Remember the talk we had last week…" Burt said. "No drinking, either of you. No drugs, no… just no anything alright?"

"No worries Burt. I'll keep an eye on Kurt for you." Finn slapped his hand down on Kurt's shoulder, perhaps heavier than he needed to.

"I don't need to be baby-sat. Bye Dad." He rushed out the door before he could get another lecture. Finn quickly followed him.

**x x x**

The party was lame. Far worse than Kurt had been expecting. For starters; who instigated a ticket system to get alcohol? When Rachel had handed them to him he'd stared at them in disbelief for a second.

"Really?" he asked.

"This way, we can consume alcohol in a controlled manner."

Kurt had frowned. The whole point of alcohol was to lose control. Not... not to be sensible.

Rachel Berry was overly concerned with her image. It was to the point where she was annoyingly obsessed with it and it was just one of the many things about her that drove Kurt insane. She was constantly torn between wanting to be considered cool by all her 'friends' (people only pretended to like because, as annoying as she was, she had some quite powerful contacts), and maintaining the good girl image she had to the public. Kurt thought it was dumb, everyone knew the 'good kids' weren't really that good at all, so what was the point in pretending? He sure didn't bother with it. If he was in a magazine with a drink in his hand, even though he was only seventeen, who cares?

"Dude, this party stinks." Finn said.

Kurt sighed. "Yep, it sure does."

"Then why are we still here? Other people are threatening to leave."

Kurt glanced in the direction Finn had pointed and sure enough an Asian couple (who he vaguely recognised but had no recollection of their names) were talking to Rachel, who seemed to be pleading with them.

"No, wait. Please... we haven't even played any games yet."

"Face it Berry," Santana Lopez sauntered towards her. "Your party sucks."

Rachel looked defeated. "But, I..."

"Yeah, the Kids Choice Awards are more of a party than this and the average age there is ten." Kurt cut in.

"If you want to save this party you need to bring out the booze. Lot's of it." Santana said.

Rachel looked hesitant for a moment, then sighed. "Fine, alright... alcohol it is."

Santana met his eyes and grinned, he grinned back. _Now _they could call this a party.

The party got much crazier after that. It also got much bigger. Kurt had no idea where all the extra people had suddenly come from but he didn't care. He was currently dancing with a really cute guy (who had probably told Kurt his name but he couldn't be bothered to remember it… he'd been calling him 'Green Eyes' in his head) to his favourite song, having a blast.

"Kurt!" a hand clamped down on his shoulder from behind, forcing him ot stop dancing and turn around.

"What Finn?"

"We have to go."

"Why?"

"Curfew."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Only kids have curfew. Lighten up."

"No, we have to go, _now_. Burt will be mad if we don't."

Kurt sighed, his Dad still hadn't lightened up on the whole boarding school thing, and he had a feeling it was going to take another couple of weeks before he gave up on threat. "Five minutes, ok?"

Finn looked hesitant but eventually nodded. "Ok, five minutes. But then we're definitely going."

Kurt turned back around to Green Eyes.

"Boyfriend?" he asked.

He shook his head. "Gross no. Brother."

"Oh," Green Eyes nodded in understanding and pulled Kurt closer. "Guess it's ok if I do this then?" the boy pulled Kurt closer until their lips met.

Kurt pulled away for a moment and smiled. "That's absolutely ok. In fact, quite welcome." And closed the gap between their lips again.

**x x x**

It was the sun hitting his eyes that woke Kurt up. He groaned. His head was pounding, his body hurt and the sun was annoyingly bright. He rolled over to bury his head in pillows to get away from it. However, as he did there was no more bed left and he found himself plummeting to the floor with a thud.

"Uughghh"

Kurt paused.

... Since when did his floor groan? Kurt's eyes shot open and he found himself on top of another human being. Blonde, male, reasonably attractive... Sam Evans. He frowned.

"Sam? What are you doing in my room?"

"I'm not in your room."

"Huh?" Kurt looked around and his heart sunk. He was in Rachel Berry's basement. Why? Why was he still there? He couldn't remember anything after a really good make out session with... well, it didn't matter who, it was really good. "Shit. Is Finn still here?"

"Finn?"

"My stepbrother."

"Oh, tall, Frankenteen guy?" Sam asked.

"Uh, yeah, sure."

"Nah dude, he went home."

"I'm going to kill him." Kurt muttered. He stood up, a little too quickly making his head spin something severe. He half stumbled up the stairs and out the door. Why hadn't Finn dragged him to the car to get him home? He was dead. So dead.

He had to get a taxi, which was completely humiliating. He wasn't calling anyone from his house, because that would only draw attention to the fact that it was eight in the morning and he wasn't home. Mercedes hadn't picked up when he'd tried to call. It was so obvious he was hung over and the driver had known exactly who he was when he got in. Of course he had known... everyone knew who he was. He mumbled his address and sat in the backseat sullenly until they pulled up at his house. Kurt handed the driver a wad of cash, barely even looking at how much he was giving him, it didn't really matter, it wasn't like he didn't have more money, before getting out.

He must have stood at the front door for at least ten minutes before he finally mustered the courage to knock.

He hadn't brought keys, because Finn had been driving. It was another five before the door finally opened.

"Kurt, nice of you to show up." his father said, and Kurt suddenly knew where his sarcasm came from.

"Please don't yell at me." he said.

"Oh no, I'm going to yell at you."

Kurt pushed past him and into the house. "I made a mistake ok? I'm a human it's what we tend to do."

"This is the second time you've been out all night in two weeks."

"So I'm one for one. That's not so bad. I didn't mean to."

"I don't care, Kurt. You're seventeen, still living in my house, under my rules."

"I paid for this house." he muttered.

"What was that?"

"I _paid _for the house, half of it anyway. I should be able to come and go as I please."

"Don't you dare start giving me attitude."

"I have a right to give you attitude if I want."

"I'm still your father and I demand that you give me respect. This is your third strike."

"So what? That's it? You're just going to ship me off to boarding school so you don't have to deal anymore?"

"That's exactly what I'm going to do."

Kurt sent the iciest glare he could. "I hate you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Would love to know your thoughts ;)**


	3. Ohio

**A/N: Sorry it's been a while. Blaine makes an appearance in this chapter :) In case it's not clear, 'KEHummel' it's Kurt's twitter. It'll appear throughout the story. **

* * *

><p><strong>KEHummel: <strong>effing unbelievable.

Ohio.

Of all the boarding schools _in existence_ his dad had picked one in freaking Westerville Ohio. Aka; the middle of freaking nowhere. Even better still, he had decided they would drive there. Probably because Ohio didn't have an airport... there was no other reason Kurt could come up with as to why they would _drive_.

For three days solid at that.

It had been one very long and very silent car trip. He wasn't speaking to his dad. He refused to. Burt had tried, multiple times. But after about 8 hours of driving, had given up. Kurt refused to say anything. He was better than this. He was so much bigger than a stupid place like Westerville Ohio. Bigger than this... Dalton Academy he was going to.

They stayed overnight in three star hotels. Kurt had grimaced the whole way. He could just feel himself be coated with a layer of grime and dirt as soon as he walked into the rooms they stayed in. He spent the whole time glued to his phone, checking twitter (thankfully no one had quite caught onto the fact he'd been sent away to boarding school just yet. Though, it was only a matter of time), and messaging Mercedes with pleas for help.

It was about midday, day three of their trip they finally pulled up to the school.

"Here we are." Burt said as they drove through a pair of massive gates. In front of them was a huge stone building that just screamed pretentious and boring with it's huge windows, and a vine creeping up one side. Hell, it probably had a spiral staircase. Kurt rolled his eyes. "Come on, kiddo. It won't be that bad."

... not that bad?

Kurt wondered sometimes if his dad forgot he was ridiculously famous. The closest the kids at this school had probably come to a celebrity before was a second rate Elvis impersonator. Kurt was A-List, not a red carpet he didn't get an invite to kind of famous. He'd be mobbed the second he stepped foot inside. There was a reason he'd started home schooling at thirteen. He followed Burt into the building to the front desk where a bright eyed brunette girl sat talking on the phone. When she was done she looked up and smiled at Burt. Then her eyes slipped over to Kurt and her jaw dropped.

"You're... you." she stuttered.

"Thanks for clearing that up for me." Kurt said deadpanned.

"We have a meeting with Principal Watson." Burt cut in quickly. "He should be expecting us."

"Right, of course." she stood up. "I'll go tell him you're here."

They waited in the office in silence. A few students wandered in and out, not one of them so much as glanced at Kurt.

"Kurt Hummel." a loud, deep voice said.

Slightly stunned Kurt turned around and came to face to face with a man who he assumed was the principal of the school.

"Welcome to Dalton Academy." he held out his hand.

Kurt stared at it for a moment, before reluctantly shaking it.

"Come into my office."

They were seated on a leather couch. Kurt glanced around the room in distaste. Whoever had done the decor had no taste whatsoever. Even with the awful, unflattering florescent lights the room was so dark, with black leather seats, everything mahogany, and dark burgundy carpet. It was hurting his eyes.

"We are thrilled to have you join us here a Dalton for your senior year of schooling." He started; with what he probably thought was a welcoming smile.

He felt far from welcomed.

Kurt tuned out straight away. He nodded politely when he thought he should as the guy went on, and on (and on) about Dalton's 'long' history and every other minute detail he didn't care about.

"So, first we'll show you to your dorm room, and then get you set up with a uniform and books and you'll be good to start classes first thing tomorrow morning."

There was a knock on the door.

"Oh, and here is Jeff Sterling right now."

Kurt frowned. Who was Jeff Sterling and why was he important?

"Kurt, Jeff here will be your dorm mate for the year, he'll also be your buddy for your first few days, show you around, help you with anything, as you get settled in."

Kurt faced the Jeff boy and... oh... no way. No way in hell was he sharing a room with this kid. In the bleach blonde hair wasn't bad enough, the side swept bangs were. He had huge blue eyes that Kurt thought were going to swallow him whole, and was grinning like a maniac.

"Hi Kurt." He said, holding out his hand.

Only because his father was in the room Kurt nodded and shook the boys hand.

"Jeff, could you show Kurt the dorm rooms while Mr Hummel and I finalise the last of the papers."

"Sure thing Mr W."

Kurt looked at his father who just grinned at him. "Go along Kurt, things will be fine."

His eyes narrowed into a glare briefly, before he turned back to Jeff, who was still smiling.

"Right this way Kurt." He said.

Kurt didn't make any acknowledgement of Jeff, he just followed him.

It was empty as they walked through the school, class must have been going on, a small fact Kurt was grateful for. The school was big. That much he could admit. The corridors were furnished, and decorated with pieces of art. It was actually a little reminiscent of the Hogwarts set from Harry Potter, which he'd visited once on a promotional trip to England.

His phone buzzed and he took it out of his pocket to see.

_**Mercedes Jones**_

_-Miss you WB. Come home soon ok? Xo_

He ignored it, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He didn't quite feel like being reminded of his life at home.

"So, I guess this is pretty different from your normal life, huh?" Jeff asked.

It took Kurt a moment to realise Jeff had said anything.

"Oh… yeah, it is."

"What made you decide to come here?"

He shrugged. "It was my Dad's idea. I don't want to be here."

"Oh…" Jeff said, stopping briefly to look at him. "That sucks." He said sympathetically.

"Yep." Kurt didn't know what else to say. He also didn't really want to say anything else. He didn't want to make friends here. He wanted to spend a few weeks here, convince the Principal to rave to his about how good of a student he was and then his dad would decide he could come home and things would go back to normal. This… Dalton Academy… would be but a blip on the radar.

"I know how that feels." Jeff said.

Kurt had to suppress a groan. Sure… this random kid with awful hair knew what it was like for his dad to ship him off for a few late nights out?

"I'm pretty sure my parents just had me because they're married and they were expected to have kids. They don't really care about me. As long as I'm out of their hair they're happy."

Kurt wished his dad was the same.

"Huh…" he said, because he didn't know what else to say.

"I suppose it has its perks." Jeff mused. "They give me money for basically whatever I want. I bet you know what that's like." He glanced over at Kurt with a smile (and really, did the boy ever stop grinning?).

Kurt shrugged. "I'm not wanting for anything, I suppose." Except a few items of the new Marc Jacob's collection… and to go home and get out of this hellhole.

"Well, we're here." Jeff said, stopping abruptly. Kurt was only a fraction of a step away from colliding into him. He looked down the long corridor that looked _exactly_ the same as every other one they'd walked down. "These are the first floor corridors, we're on the second. The staircase is at the end." He said.

"Oh… ok."

As they walked up the stairs his phone buzzed again and he pulled it out quickly.

_**Rachel Berry**_

_-You're in OHIO? Why? Why are you in Ohio? I don't understand. Get back to me. _

Just like Mercedes', he ignored the message and shoved his phone back into his pocket.

"And this is our room. 208." He said, apparently, just in case Kurt was unable to read the large brass numbers on the door. "I tidied up when I found out I was getting a roommate. My old one left last year… military kid."

Kurt nodded and made a noise to pretend like he cared. He was more interested in seeing what the closet space was like.

"It's not that big. But you'll barely spend any time in here anyway. The common room is just two doors down and that's where we hang out pretty much until curfew, then we all go to sleep. And… don't worry, I know you're a little bit of a fashionista. I pretty much only have three outfits, and one of them is my uniform. So… majority of the closet space is yours."

"Oh, so you do know who I am?" Kurt asked.

"Um… duh. _Everyone_ knows who you are."

"You were just acting like I was some random person, I thought that maybe you… didn't."

Jeff went a little red and looked away from Kurt shrugging. "I assumed that's probably what you wanted. To… just be treated normally."

"Oh…" Kurt didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't.

"Anyway, this is your side of the room," Jeff gestured to the bare side of the room.

There was a single bed, with a navy cover and white sheets and pillow. A desk was seated under the one window in the room, it was completely bare… and that was it. Kurt took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.

"There's…" He gestured trying to find the right words.

"I know. You get used to it though. Trust me… its not so bad."

"Right." He nodded. "It's only temporary. I'm sure after a few weeks I can convince my dad I've learnt my lesson and things can go back to normal."

Jeff clapped him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit." He said. "And hey, at least we're in one of the rooms with it's own bathroom. Way better than communal, trust me. Freshman year I had to use the dorm bathroom… so many questionable stains."

There was a knock on the door, and both boys turned to see Mr Watson and Burt standing in the doorway, Burt holding Kurt's bags.

"How's the room kiddo?" Burt asked.

"Small." Kurt said shortly. "You can put the bags on the bed." He said.

"Well," Mr Watson glanced at his watch. "I believe last period is about to finish up, and I'm sure you'd like to meet some of your fellow classmates, the boys you'll be living with."

He didn't really. He didn't care. He'd be here for two weeks, three tops... there was no way his dad was following through on this completely... no way. But he nodded politely and Mr Watson made an excuse for he and Jeff to leave the room. Letting him say goodbye to his dad.

"It's not too late for you to change your mind." Kurt said hopefully.

Burt sighed. "I'm doing this for you. You need this."

"But why? Why do I need it?"

"You'll work it out soon enough. We'll see how things are at the end of the semester."

Kurt gaped at him. "Semester? But... it only just started. That's months away."

"I'm still your legal guardian. My word is final."

"Whatever." Kurt said, feeling childish as he spat out the word. "Don't expect heartfelt letters and emails though."

Burt rested a hand on his shoulder. "I love you Kurt. One day you'll understand why I've done this."

"Bye." he mumbled.

"Bye." For a moment, Burt looked like he wanted to hug him, but in the end didn't. As he left Jeff walked back into he room with a grin on his face.

"So, I know it always sucks when you have to say bye, but... all the boys are in the common room and I thought meeting them would be a great way to lift your spirits."

Kurt nodded. He had no interest in anyone here, but he didn't really see a way out of it.

Jeff led him out of their room and down the corridor. The common room didn't really have a door; it was just a big archway that led into a large room. On one side of the room there was a huge fireplace with couches surrounding it. There was a piano sitting in one corner, a few tables and chairs, and on the other side a large flat screen TV, it was currently turned off, but there was a group of about ten boys sitting amongst the couches around it. The room was decorated in the same sort of artwork found around the place and potted plants.

"Gentlemen." Jeff said loudly clapping his hand, quickly drawing the attention of them all. "I have a new friend to introduce to you all."

Kurt rased his eyebrows. Friends? They were barely acquaintances.

"Now, I now he might be a familiar face, but please... he's been here for a total of an hour so don't overwhelm him."

"I'm not a scared, caged animal." Kurt said, and suddenly he had all eyes on him. "I'm Kurt." He said.

It looked like some of the other boys were about to respond, but a voice from behind stopped them.

"Hey, so, I don't know how it ended up my in room, but I found the..."

Kurt spun around at the new voice. As he did, the boy who was talking spotted him and stopped in his tracks. He was holding a grey remote that promptly slipped from his fingers to the ground with a thud as he stared, open mouthed at Kurt, who raised his eyebrows.

The boy was short. Not miniature kind of short but was... smaller... had a tan complexion and dark, gelled down hair. Kurt had never really had a type... but he'd never seen this boy before.

"And this is the one I was most worried about." Jeff said, with a smirk. "Kurt, this is Blaine."

Blaine stared at him for a moment longer and then looked at Jeff.

"Really?" He asked, his voice several pitches higher than it was a moment ago.

"You're not dreaming."

Kurt smirked a little. So this... Blaine... had a crush on him. That was... helpful. Definitely helpful.

"Oh, ok." He said shakily, then looked away from Kurt. "Um, anyway, I found the remote." He bent down and picked it up, Kurt took a moment to admire the way the grey slacks hugged his legs as he did. "I don't know why it was in my room. Probably Pav."

"Yes, because a bird that weighs about 2 grams is going to pick up something bigger, and heaver than it and take it all he way to your room." An Asian boy said.

"Well, someone planted it there." Blaine said.

Kurt watched him as he walked past him and set the remote down on the coffee table. Maybe... one good thing was going to come out of this place.

* * *

><p><strong>Would love to know what you think. <strong>


End file.
